More than Just Black and White
by Yannami
Summary: When Kuroba Kaito disappeared two months ago, Kaitou Kid didn't. And Aoko – who knows perfectly well who the person behind the mask and the monocle is – will do whatever it takes to know why.


More than Just Black and White

When Kuroba Kaito disappeared two months ago, Kaitou Kid didn't. Aoko thinks that it might've been her childhood friend cutting her out of his life – just like she told him to – because she knows _perfectly_ wellwho the person behind the mask _is._

Right now, she's still running on steam – anger overtaking the fear and worry of a month without Kuroba Kaito because _goddamn it._ Two months ago, when, in the midst of shock and indignity she told him that she never wanted to see him again, she didn't think that he'd take it so seriously. She didn't think that he'd be heartless enough to hold a heist that very same evening. And she didn't think that he would not come home from said heist while rumors of Kid's apparent death are circling around.

She didn't _think_ that she'd be living a month in blatant _fear_ and _worry_ and _anguish_ because Kuroba Kaito never reported to class or ever came home. But all of these emotions shift to anger and betrayal when her father – overjoyed and beaming – drops his cigarettes and tells her that they received a heist note from the Kid. He's _alive._ And Kaito never bothered to _think_ that maybe she's been on the verge of a heart attack because she thought that he was _dead._ She feels like she's been stabbed when she realizes, really, that he's taken her word seriously. He's cut her off. Never even bothered to check if she was okay while the rumors were making their rounds. Her best friend replaced by a heartless mask. Just like that.

Nevertheless, she comes to the heist. There, she sees that Kid is a bit different. He never smiles, and never talks. The crowd still cheers when he escapes, but he never makes an attempt to take the gem. Also, he doesn't do any magic tricks. All running and disappearing; it isn't a performance.

This continues for three more heists, and Aoko comes to all. She doesn't waving an anti-Kid banner this time. Instead, she watches – looking out for anything familiar, anything Kaito, in the things that Kid does. She never finds any.

Then one day, when the police manage to corner him, he reaches into his jacket, pulls out a gun and _shoots_ – seriously injuring half of the officers. He escapes in the midst of the commotion, and all of this happens inside the display case area, where the public cannot see anything. Aoko only hears about it from her father, who is crouching on their porch edge, once again smoking a cigarette.

"That's not Kid," she hears him murmur in a scratchy voice. Tucks another stick into his mouth and puffs. The smoke comes out dark and foggy. "No way that could be Kid."

She doesn't believe him. _Can't._ Because then that would mean that the worst thing that could possibly happen to Kaito _happened._

Instead, she finds herself coming with her father to heists and retreating up to the rooftop when she normally leaves to join the rest of the crowd. She knows that there's a very small chance of actually running into the thief through this method. And even if she does see him, she knows that it would be all-too-easy for him to escape. Still, she hangs on to that thin thread of hope – that since this is _Kaito,_ he'll stop. That for her, Kaito will stop.

On the eighth heist, she hears a click from the stairwell door. Footsteps clack towards her in the dark, and she turns around. Finds Kaitou Kid standing there, expression unreadable underneath the top hat and the beam of his monocle.

"Why did you shoot them?" There are a hundred things that she wants to ask, now that she's come to terms with his identity. But that's the first question to spring to mind, now that he's here.

Kid grins, almost amused. "It was the only way I could escape, Nakamori-san."

A shiver runs down her spine, and to keep herself rooted to reality, she tries to imagine Kaito underneath the allure of Kaitou Kid. Tries to imagine the silly, bright-eyed Kaito in Kid's shoes. But somehow, with the Kid standing right there – all suave, shadows and moonlight – the thought easily slips away. Like water through her fingers.

"Those officers were hospitalized for weeks."

"No permanent damage done unto them."

"You've never shot with the intent to hurt anyone."

"It was the only way to escape."

"I thought you were far more creative than that," she mutters, meaning for her voice to come out firm. Instead it comes out soft and shaky – months of pent up emotions spilling out, like a kettle holding water past its boiling point. She's not crying. She's _not._ The wind from the rooftop is just too strong. "I didn't think that you were this kind of person, Kaito."

Kid pauses, and with her hair, the wind, the blur and the shadows, it's hard to see his reaction. After awhile, however, he says, "Well, I must say that I'm very sorry to disappoint you. Anyway, I really must go."

"What –"

He turns around, but then pauses to say, "If you value your life, then I suggest that you avoid the roof next time, Aoko." And then he steps off the side of the building. Aoko stares after him in horror. And then she races to the edge. She looks down and doesn't find anything at the bottom. Thinks about what he says, and decides that maybe she doesn't really value her life after all.

* * *

She goes straight up to the rooftop next time, thinking about what Kid told her. Wondering why she should avoid the rooftop if she values her life. Thinking about the dangers. It doesn't help that the clouds are thick that night, making it dark despite the moon. It's eerie. And the winds are strong, smashing against the stairwell door and causing it to make a creaking sort of noise.

Kid won't be able to use the hang glider, so she knows that the chances of his escape involving the rooftop are very slim. Still, she stays and hopes. Presses her back against the railings, squeezes herself into the oversized jacket, stays, and hopes.

And then she hears the sound of thick cloth being caught by the wind.

"I'm starting to think that you're a bit suicidal, Aoko."

Aoko turns around, and finds Kid standing by the door, about two meters away. The wind is pulling his cape away from him – she can see it dancing across his back. However, it's still too dark to see anything but shadows.

" _Me?_ What about _you?_ What happened two months ago, anyway? They found your top hat with…" she swallows, remembering the pictures of Kid's dripping red top hat on her father's work table. Tries very hard to keep her voice steady. "Anyway, are you alright?"

"Yes, I am." There's a very thick division between Kaito and Kid. She knows who she's talking to; she's known him since they were seven. Still, the appeal of Kid paints him in an unfamiliar light. Suddenly, she doesn't know what to say. He looks up at her – monocle gleaming. "You?"

Suddenly finding her voice, she snaps her head up and looks at him. "You're asking me that _now_?"

"What–"

"Do you have any idea how _worried_ I was?"

He doesn't say anything. And then he reaches for the door. "I'm sorry," he says, softly. She's too far to reach him in time. By the time she's up and by the door, he's gone.

* * *

His next heist is in a rich man's mansion. She stays at the balcony, which is the closest thing to a rooftop. And she's watching an ambulance disappear down the road.

"Hey, Aoko." Kid keeps his distance. Stands in the shadows.

"Your heists are getting boring. No magic. No quips."

"Hey…"

"Not that I care. You're committing crime, either way. What bothers me the most is how you're straying away from your code of honor." She pauses, and then turns to him. "I saw an ambulance."

"The owner of this place got some of my explosives stuck to his foot. Just a little wound."

She shivers, and brings her arms to her sides. "Why are you doing this?" She looks at him. Nothing but a reflection of lights on the monocle – a white figure standing in the shadows. "You know that I hate him. You know what Kaitou Kid's cost me. So _why?_ "

She hears him shift. And then, "I'm afraid I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"It's too complicated. Too dangerous."

"And you don't think that it's too complicated and dangerous for _you_? _Gods_ Kaito, we're almost the same age! We practically grew up together."

"It _is_ a lot to ask of for a kid," he mutters, and she detects an edge to his tone. "Kind of sad if you ask me, but I don't need to add to the casualties."

She pauses. And then she says, voice as soft as snowflake, "Then stop." She sees his monocle catch a glint of the moonlight, making his face asymmetrical as he looks up at her. "You can always opt to stop. Leave this to the police."

"I can't."

"Does your objective have anything to do with gems at all? Because I don't see you trying to take them in your last few heists."

"Maybe my objective has changed," he whispers. "Maybe the original plan just couldn't work out."

"I could always choose to tell dad," she says, and even she is surprised by the intensity in her voice. "You could go to jail. Everything you do is always a step away from behind bars." She thinks back to three months ago. Remembers how the police searched for a body; remembers the headlines: Kaitou Kid Shot. Remembers the nightmares, and everyday just sitting by her window, waiting for his lights to turn on. Waiting for him to come home. "One step away from behind bars, or worse," she adds, quietly.

"If you tell the Inspector, maybe he'll believe you. But he can't make an arrest without any proof." There's just a hint of amusement coloring his tone, as if her threat is the silliest thing he's ever heard.

Her fingers fiddle inside her hoodie, where she depresses the button of her recording device, signaling its end. Then she takes it out, and flashes it underneath the moonlight. She sees his shoulders tense even in the shadows.

"This is my only copy."

"You–"

She sighs, and hurls it at him. "I won't tell."

"What?"

"I won't tell anyone. Just…stand by your honor. And be careful." She would give almost anything just to see his face. "I… don't hate you. Even if I don't like Kid, I don't hate you. Please come home. Please come back to school. I miss you."

He steps forward, but she doesn't see anything. The uneven lighting has made his features undistinguishable. But she could see that his build is stockier. She wonders if the costume has always made him look heavier than he really is. She wonders why she never noticed it before. But most of all, she wonders why the silence around them has gone heavy.

He's still not saying anything.

" _Kaito!"_

"I'm sorry," he whispers in a very odd voice.

"What are you apologizing for?" she cries. "Even last time, you –"

He prepares to step back into the room, but this time she's ready. She swiftly stands up and grabs him. He freezes over, and her blood runs cold. Because these wrists aren't Kaito's. These wrists are thick.

She snaps her head up in an attempt to see his face, but with all of the shadows from his hat, all she sees are tensed lips. None of the features.

And then he pulls away, as if her hands are made of fire. Runs out, and she's too stunned to move or say anything.

* * *

The next time he announces a heist, she mechanically goes about her routine to get to the rooftop. This time it's in a museum, and Kid is supposed to steal a gem called the King's Eye.

Aoko doubts that he'll even try to steal it. She doubts that he'll pull on any stunts or magic tricks because this Kid's just not that good. She still wonders how he gets away. Despite popular belief, her father is far from incompetent. Surely it couldn't be that easy for a Kid impostor to slip away.

Still, she doesn't expect any answers. She doesn't expect him to actually go up to the rooftop, so she actually is surprised when she hears the door behind her open.

"Nakamori-san," he greets.

It is then that she realizes, really, that she's alone on the rooftop, at night, with a criminal that never had any problems shooting at officers and playing with bombs. Strangely though, she doesn't feel any kind of fear – only an eerie sense of calmness. He once said that he was beginning to think that she was a bit suicidal. Maybe now, he's right. She's been living the days leading up to this moment in a numb, stunned sort of trance.

She doesn't look at him. Continues to stand by the roof's railings, looking down at the streets and traffic, eyes blank.

"Where's Kid? The real one."

"He was shot," he says, softly. "Your friend was shot."

Her mind drains out, the words _shot_ echoing again and again like a broken cassette tape, images of a bloody top hat and a broken monocle repeating itself in the theatre of her mind; images of Kaito, cold and unmoving, with scarlet streaks dripping from his head. Kaito, whose last words from her were cruel; who will never hear that she wants him to come home, to come back to school. Kaito, who will never know that she misses him _so much_.

The Kid impostor stands beside her, and she looks at him. The wind is pulling his cape back, and she could see that really – this man is taller than Kaito. He's heavier. He doesn't have Kid's agile form, and he can't replicate his confident, lopsided smirk. She swallows hard as hot and thick tears spring into her eyes. Somehow, she hopes that he would whip out a gun and shoot. But instead, he looks up. "Our organization is going to declare Kaitou Kid dead in a few days. And I'm saying in a few days, not back then when we shot him, because we didn't find a body."

'Didn't finda body,' he says.A _corpse._ The implication makes her feel like she's been stabbed through the heart.

"I guess that what I'm trying to say is, there's a big chance that he didn't make it. But there's also a small chance that he did." Aoko lets out a shaky breath. Cups her mouth with her hands. "That's why I'm here. Kaitou Kid always comes when there are impostors. What more if they start hurting people using his name?" He sighs.

"Why are you telling me this?" she manages to choke out through the lump in her throat.

He shrugs. "I just felt the need to." Then he turns to her. "But I don't want you to leap at the small chance of his survival. Don't go looking; don't make any missing person reports. They'll be looking out for that, and if he goes into the suspect pool, well, you lose all of your chances of ever seeing him alive again."

He makes a move to stand, but Aoko grabs his sleeve, knuckles white from the tightness of her hold. For some odd reason, she feels like if she loses this man today, she loses all her leads to Kaito. "Who are you guys?" Her voice comes out shaky. "Why are you after Kid?"

He grins, slowly. Like a snake. "Because he's an obstacle to the syndicate. I'm not sure if I have the right to tell you this, but Kid isn't in here just for kicks. He's got a goal, and part of it is to stop us." The grin widens, "Even if police records say otherwise, he's the good guy. The world isn't black and white, Nakamori-san."

Aoko's breath hitches. Her voice is trembling when she says, "So the snipers during the heists…the ones who shot him…it was _you guys_."

"Yes," the man replies, and with his tone, you'd think that he's talking about the weather or tea.

"You're with _them!_ "

"I am, and he's clever, I could tell you that. Never would've thought that he was only seventeen until you dropped the name. See, I may not be the real Kid. But we make it a point to know about the people who are after him." He smirks. "That includes the Kid Task Force's police inspector, and his connections outside of work."

Anger and hatred shifts to shock and horror. Aoko flinches. Worries, for a second that in her oblivious state, she may have just revealed something that she _really_ shouldn't. But then she thinks that if this impostor were as dangerous as he lets on, then would he be telling her this? Would she still be alive? And would Kaito even have a chance to begin with?

"You're being very honest and helpful for someone that's supposed to be part of the bad guys."

"The world isn't black and white, like I said," he drawls, "Take this as my way of making amends for everything that I did under their watch. Maybe by choosing to keep his identity between the two of us, and by telling you this, I'd still have a chance at heaven."

"What…"

Finally he turns away.

"Best of luck to you, Nakamori-san," he whispers. "I'm afraid that this will be the last time we'll ever meet."

He leaves the rooftop through the stairwell door, but Aoko can't move to stop him.

The officers find her later – much later – while doing their post heist check. She's sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to her chest in a tight grip, and seems to be keeping her emotions in check as she stares blankly at the railings of the rooftop.

* * *

The first thing that he notices the moment that he wakes up, really, is the sound of the air vent. And while he is _aware_ of the steady sounds of the heart monitor and his own breathing, something in his system tells him to pay more attention to the subtle things. However, the numbness and inability to even lift a finger is pretty hard to ignore. That, coupled with the pain in his throat and his failure to put his thoughts together ensues panic. The beeping sound speeds up. And then there's an unfamiliar face. He's too out of it to make a proper evaluation, other than the fact that the face belongs to a man wearing a lab coat.

"Calm down, kid," he says, voice gentle. "Calm down."

It takes awhile for the words to sink in. It takes longer for him to calm down. But when he does, his thoughts spike up. About a billion questions run through his mind, and it's the man – a doctor, he presumes – that cuts it off.

"Are you feeling alright now?"

Not really alright. No. There's still a gigantic question mark hanging over his head, and then there are the tubes and what seems to be an oxygen mask covering up the half of his face. But he could recognize his thoughts, and the panic seems to have diminished almost entirely. The heart monitor's beeps seem to have regained its steady beat. "B-better," he stutters.

"Okay, then," the man smiles. Then he looks down at his hands. From his position in the bed, he can't see what the doctor is looking at. Something tells him that it's a clipboard of records. "I am Doctor Asano, by the way. Helped fix you up after that panicked farmer rushed you here."

He stares back, blankly.

"Anyway, we would like to ask you some things, if you don't mind?"

He nods.

"Okay. First, can you give us your name, please?"

His brows furrow. "Name?"

The doctor looks up.

"It's…Kaito."

"Kaito…"

Kaito looks back in panic.

The doctor straightens up in alarm. "You have a surname that comes with that? An age? Hometown? Anyone you know?"

Kaito stares back. "I'm Kaito, and I'm…seventeen."

The doctor looks in earnest, waiting for what else he has to say.

"That's…all I can remember."

* * *

Omigosh HI, EVERYONE!

So I've been away for quite awhile, just rolling around my chair like a helpless potato, doing nothing, when a plot came to me. It's about the last part of this story – Kaito's retrograde amnesia. However, I realized how absolutely long this type of story could take. I wanted to make something short and something that I was sure to finish. So, while Kaito is off _somewhere_ not even knowing about who Kaitou Kid is, I decided to write about what his loved ones are up to. Specifically Aoko.

Because honestly, I think that this girl is just brimming with character potential.


End file.
